


Heart Strings

by aoyamayuuga



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Some people live; Others die in their place; Others stay dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5628466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoyamayuuga/pseuds/aoyamayuuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka Elia and Lyanna live: the AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the track used while writing this. ('Heart Strings' of the Keizoku 2: SPEC ~Ten~ movie OST by Gabriele Robert and Shibuya Keiichirou)

Elia carries her son closely to her chest throughout the bumpy carriage ride, laughing softly as she watches Oberyn and her daughter, riding a separate horse, through the small window on her side. She sighs, remembering the earlier morning two days past now, when she was suddenly awakened by queen Rhaella shaking her and telling her to hurry, to pack lightly and to hurry.  
  
_Hurry dear child, you must hurry_.  
  
The weight of the words and the tone leave a bad taste in Elia's mouth. Something is wrong, she can feel it.  


* * *

  
  
She says nothing when Oberyn announces the small detour before they complete their trip towards home. They'll all be truly safe soon enough.  
  
She clenches her fists and grinds her teeth when they arrive, hands her boy to the nursemaid Oberyn brought all while Rhaenys sleeps inside the carriage.  
  
The Tower of Joy.  
  
She thinks of Rhaegar and wants to damn him to all seven hells and back.  


* * *

  
  
"Rhaegar is too much of a soft-hearted fool to tell you, but know this, you will be princess consort, I will be queen. Your son born of ice and fire will be sacrificed to the wall and the white walkers for the same kingdom that my son will rule," Elia spits, throat sore and tired. She doesn't mean it. She doesn't mean a word, not when she knows this child- this girl is not at fault. Rhaegar is but Rhaegar is not here to hear her. May the gods forgive her but she has to say it, has to let it out even if it's lie after lie in her tongue. It's not this child's fault but Elia's heart has to have some freedom, the slightest comfort, before it bursts.  
  
It's petty, she knows, but she wants to hurt Rhaegar in whatever way she can. If not for herself than for her children who deserve better.  
  
The girl looks at her with blank gray eyes. "They all said you were weak, gentle but weak," she says. "They were wrong. You are strong princess Elia."  
  
Elia glares at her, tries to picture Rhaegar in her place instead, tries to picture him sickly pale and bone thin and tired, all well-deserved, and all she can feel is pity. Elia knows she doesn't deserve this, and even after everything Elia finds it hard to wish this much suffering on anyone, even Rhaegar himself. "Lyanna Stark," she starts. "We're strong because he made us weak and we suffered for it," Elia tells her. Rhaegar, Rhaegar it's all his fault. Rhaegar who spoke sweetly to her, who loved their daughter and son, who might have only loved them for a song and a prophecy. Rhaegar who promised a caged wolf land to roam free.  "We're strong _now_ because he made us feel safe, and in those moments he destroyed us both. He turned us weak."  
  
Lyanna Stark looks at her for a moment before she laughs, a small and pathetic sound. This is the girl he took, Elia thinks sadly. The fierce she-wolf she heard tales about is nothing but a dying winter rose now. "Aye, that he did," She admits, and Elia sees the girl, the girl who wanted freedom and was locked in a tower instead.  
  
"If we meet again, Lyanna Stark," Elia says crouching closer to the girl, speaking so that only she can hear. "Let us show them all our newfound strength."  
  
Light returns to the girl's gray eyes, if only by a small amount, before she grabs one of Elia's hands, where they grasp the steel of her cage, and weakly grips it. "Yes." She's still in there, Elia notices, the she-wolf. There's fight in her heart where Rhaegar tried to tame her with song and pretty words and empty promises. Elia is glad for it.  
  
"Elia," Oberyn says from the door. "Let us go now, sister."  
  
She goes.  


* * *

  
  
Lyanna stays locked in a tower, but there's a fire in her belly, newly alight.  
  
She'll show her strength.  
  
They'll show them all.


	2. Chapter 2

Doran greets them at the entrance of Sunspear, sighing out in relief as he sees Elia.  
  
She's never seen her brother look so old and it terrifies her to think of what it would have done to him had anything happened to her and her children. _The war is over but the fight is far from finished_ , she thinks, holds her son closer to her chest. Targaryen blood lives on- _but for how much longer_??

 

* * *

 

 

"Robert, please!" Lyanna shouts at him tiredly, from her bed, her babe held on one arm. Her son does not so much as whimper from the noise. He sleeps, peaceful and unaware. _Oh_ , the _innocence_ of it all.   
  
"You want me to leave them alive?! The dragonspawn?!" The other bellows, face red and eyes wide with shock; they're not wild, they're not closed off to her _not yet_ \- "You- and you want to keep the boy he planted in you as well!? He- that bastard raped you Lya," Robert says softly in the end, takes his seat back by her bedside, shoulders dropping.  
  
Robert Baratheon was made for _war_ , she used to think, but no, Robert Baratheon was made for _the battlefield_.  
  
This, too, is war and she will come out victorious.   
  
( _There's not other choice there's not other choice_ -)  
  
"And no child should pay for the sins of his father," Lyanna tells him as she reaches for his hand slowly. He's wrong, Rhaegar did not take her, but he did win over her and she was too desperate for freedom and love to notice he was leading her into another cage. She cannot tell Robert, can't let him rage on towards Rhaegar's children- no, towards her child and Elia Martell's children. They have no father in their mind, Lyanna knows Elia would agree. That man is dead, that man is dead and has no one but himself to blame.  
  
Robert looks at her, tired and angry, but never at her, this fool who thinks he loves her. _You can't love what you don't know Robert_ , she thinks. _But you can learn to_ , _you can try_ , she tells herself as she looks at him. "You want to destroy every trace of Rhaegar Targaryen," she states. It's not a question, Robert has made it well known.   
  
He looks at her as he caresses her hand. Who knew he could be gentle, this angry brute. _But for how long_ , her mind whispers. "Yes, he's dead but it's not enough. Not when-" he glares at the babe on her other arm before turning away. "Forgive me, I know it's _your_ child but it's also _his_ \- his and I cannot-"  
  
"He doesn't have to be," she tells him, watches the way his head snaps back towards her in confusion.   
  
"It will always be his," Robert all but hisses out, angry and confused but full of conviction.  
  
"In blood, he will always be, Robert," she tells him bringing his hand toward her lips. She has to calm him down enough to win over him, _she must_. "But what better way to spit in Rhaegar Targaryen's grave some more than to make his own flesh and blood hate him, deny him even the title of father and have them give it to the man who killed him?" she asks him. It's all ludicrous in her ears but it will work. It has to work.   
  
( _They don't have another choice._ )  
  
"You say them," Robert repeats at her uneasily.  
  
"Yes, _them_. Little Rhaenys and Aegon," Lyanna tells him bluntly. She can almost feel the way he wants to jerk his hand away from her grasp but won't. He's blinded by fool's love, he will not reject her not when he finally has her so close.   
  
"Lyanna-"  
  
"I don't want this child to be king, not when that's what Rhaegar wanted," she lies. _The dragon must have three heads_ , she remembers Rhaegar saying. Robert furrows his brow at her in confusion. "He was going to set aside his own children and wife to put me in the throne Robert. Those were his wishes. I- I wish I could have twisted a knife in his heart myself," she tells him, and it should shock her how easy it is to lie in this way but she has not the time for that now. _Maybe it's not much of a lie, not anymore_. "He's dead and I cannot, not physically, not like you slammed your hammer into him, but I want him to hurt. To burn in whatever hell he is, and I _want_ this Robert, I want to do this by destroying his dreams further," she finishes, clutching Robert's hand. The babe in her arm squirms but for a moment.   
  
( _This is what must be done,_ she thinks- pleads with her child, her innocent boy _. This is what will keep you alive._ )  
  
"Lyanna," Robert starts, closes his eyes with a sigh. War ages all, she notes, turns boys to men, dampens the fire in their eyes. Dents their souls until they resemble brittle armour. She sinks her nails and teeth and soul onto the depressions, opens them into cavities and dives in.  
  
"Please, please Robert, take us both," she tells him tries to put as much pleading in her eyes as she possibly can, "make Elia and I your queens."  
  
"Two queens?" Robert barks a laugh disbelieving, tone full of condescending echos. He thinks the suggestion is absurd- likely he thinks her a fool. Let him think as he likes, she'll win this war one way or another.  
  
"The Targaryens did so for generations, who's to say you cannot? Who would deny you now?" she asks him. "Make Aegon your heir, give my boy the Crownlands, give your brother or the children you and I may have the Stormlands-"  
  
"And the girl?" he asks her bluntly, shocking her.   
  
"Rhaenys," she starts uneasily, "the only thing you can do is marry her off to a good man, the best you can find. Dorne would accept nothing less," she finishes, can feel the bile in her throat. _I am throwing a child to the same fate I tried to escape from, just for a chance to let her live_ , she thinks and is sickened with herself.   
  
( _They don't have a choice- they do not. There's nowhere to run._ )  
  
"Aye," Robert says calmly as he strokes lines over her hand, soft and surprisingly soothing. He looks at her with loving eyes and smiles. "Smart, beautiful, and merciless."  
  
She does her best to smile brightly at him as he brings his other hand to her cheek. She tries but knows the effort is in vain and hopes Robert faults fatigue.   
  
( _She's trying because there's no other choice and she's trying- she has to try_ harder _._ )  
  
"Will she even agree, sickly Elia Martell?" he asks her.  
  
 _She's strong_ , Lyanna wants to correct, _so much stronger_. "For the chance of her children being allowed to live? For them not to lose what they were going to have before their fool of a father tried to take it from them? For a chance to humiliate Rhaegar Targaryen as he did her? Yes," Lyanna says confidently. "Elia will agree."  
  
Robert takes his hand from her cheek and places it atop the head of her boy, and it takes Lyanna's entire being not to flinch in fear. "He looks like you," he says, moving the small hairs on her boy's head.   
  
She looks at him further before responding. _You will never hurt him, I will never allow it_ , she thinks at him. "And Rhaenys and Aegon look like their mother save for their eyes."  
  
He looks back at he and smirks. "Is that right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He removes his hand and lifts himself off his seat with a huff. "It seems ravens must be sent now-" he says and Lyanna jumps- he hasn't given her his word yet.  
  
"Robert-"  
  
"Do you want to write to her yourself?" he asks her.  
  
Lyanna stares at him before quickly responding, "Yes, yes. Please, I beg you, let me."   
  
He looks down at her, eyes softer than she's ever known them to be. "I'll have someone bring you parchment and ink then," he tells her. "You'll let sickly Elia Martell that she and her whelp will be allowed to live, I will swear that upon the love I hold for you, the same I went to war for and found victory on. The rest of your plan- put that on hold. I will not agree to anything more till I speak with Jon and the rest of my men." Lyanna sighs. "For now rest, there- there's something that needs to be taken care of," he tells her before turning to leave.  
  
As he open the door she calls out to him. "Thank you," she tells him.   
  
( _There's nowhere else to run to, nowhere at all; Nowhere except forward she'll walk with her head held high. She'll march the least wanted path. There is no other choice._ )  
  
"Do not thank me, Lya," he says, shakes his head at her, like one would to a child, "it's the least I could do after what that bastard did to you."


End file.
